


The World Can Wait

by Jennifer-Oksana (JenniferOksana)



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Age Difference, Crushes, F/M, Het, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-23 19:20:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6127432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferOksana/pseuds/Jennifer-Oksana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has his reasons for staying close.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The World Can Wait

 

The honor of serving the president at this time of crisis.

The principle of supporting democracy, freedom, civilian governments, and all those things that make war worth fighting.

The feeling of being needed and helpful in these causes and to those who lead humanity to safety from the Cylons.

Lee Adama has many reasons for working so closely with President Roslin. They are good reasons, reasons that he could tell anyone and not be lying, thought poorly of, or mocked for by Kara. Not even his father could doubt his resolve or motives, and in fact, most people seem to admire him for being one of the president's closest advisers.

What's fracking difficult is that they're only nine-tenths of the truth. The final piece of the puzzle, the part that makes the game something quite different than a young man trying to serve his people and his government, is that Lee feels something more for President Roslin.

He feels something more. And so when he and Kara play a game of good cop, bad cop? It becomes him screaming and acting like a madman, because this wannabe terrorist Zarek's got out is trying to threaten Laura. Because if something happens to her, so help him, he will cut Zarek into pieces himself and damn the consequences.

He feels something more. So Lee hovers, waiting for orders, wondering what it was that made a duty into a pleasure, and a pleasure into longing. Worse yet, he knows that this is the kind of longing that cannot be acknowledged. She's the **president** and for her to "take up" a younger lover would be dangerous, especially with the election hovering near. Even if she had any interest in him anyway, it couldn't happen.

Lee isn't even sure of that, but that's the least of his worries.

They have never behaved inappropriately, no matter what Lee feels. He has never been anything but her attache, her adviser, and her friend. But at Baltar's party, when his father danced with her first, a proper distance between them, and Lee's immediate reaction was jealousy. No, no, he did **not** want his father to dance with Laura.

That's _President Roslin_ to you, soldier. The power-hungry schoolteacher who was deceptively mild and quiet, but had as much strength as his old man, and used it compassionately. Lee has seen power wielded by men and women of all ages, but never so comfortably as by the president.

It's one of the reasons he's loyal. It's certainly a reason why he cares.

"Excuse me," he says to her quietly, much later in the evening, after Vice-President Baltar has found himself comfortably and vulgarly surrounded with lovely women.

"Lee," she says, a smile coming over her face. "I thought you and your friends would be done with a stodgy political bash by now."

"Nothing dull about politics," he says. "Are you busy?"

"No," she answers, still smiling politely. Lee thinks that maybe he's offended her somehow, or she's not thinking of business. "I'm people-watching, that's all. Our vice-president is a very popular man, and he affords all sorts of observational opportunities."

"But you're the one who's doing the real work," Lee says automatically. "If people want to go for flash, that's their right. But when they write about the real heroes, they're going to start with you."

"That's kind of you," she says. "I wouldn't write my heroic obituary just yet, though. There's plenty of time to ruin things."

Lee shakes his head, but cannot think of anything to say that won't sound trite, and stupid. Instead he half-smiles and looks away, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," she says a moment later. "I was indulging in self-pity. Thank you for the compliment, Lee. It means something to me that you trust me so thoroughly."

And because she's being honest, he blurts out what he'd meant to ask before the conversation got strange and shadowed with topics Lee had no intention of talking about. "Would you like to dance, President Roslin?" he asks.

A distinct surprise flutters across Laura Roslin's face, and then she smiles again. But this time it is not the motherly smile of the president; it is something that belongs to a Laura Roslin who was more and less than a heroine and leader in a time of great turmoil and stress.

"Yes, Lee," she says, taking his hand. "I think I would. But you have to do me a favor, first."

"Yes?" he asks, heart clearly in his throat.

"Ask me again. But call me Laura," she says, squeezing his hand. "Okay?"

"Okay," he says. "Laura."


End file.
